Fall
by GlacierWhite
Summary: Fancy of how Mr. Knightley has been in love with Emma unconsciously ever since she was thirteen...


…and by dint of fancying so many errors, have been in love with you ever since you were thirteen at least. - Mr. Knightley

 **Fall**

Mr. Knightley was exhausted after a fortnight's rushing about in and around London. All he desperately needed and wanted at present was nothing but a harbor to rest and heal up.

Without willing to bother the new wedded Mr. and Mrs. John Knightley, Mr. George Knightley headed directly to Donwell with a hope of arriving by dinner time.

The seeming one hundred and sixty miles extended to an end eventually. Mt. Knightley let a long breath out when the edge of the shrubbery came in sight. He urged Bessie a little bit and could not but laugh at himself inwardly while he was passing through the gate - the house lying right before him was clearly not Abbey, but Hartfield. Yet he rode in, anyway.

"Mr. Knightley, it's been decades!" a brisk greeting broke the quietness of the house as soon as he strode into the hall. He could not help smiling when he saw a light figure rushing out towards him. He stopped and reached out his hands readying to take hers, and froze awkwardly in the air when she stopped short just in front of him and curtsied gracefully.

"You're truly a lady now, aren't you? My dear Emma." He made a face and bowed back most genteelly.

"I certainly will not give you a chance to lecture me when we first met after such …Oh dear, Mr. Knightley, what happened? You look just miserable." Emma was started by his tiredness and awful complexion when she got a better look at his face. She stepped up hastily and took one of his big hands into her small, delicate ones, "Do come in!"

She led Mr. Knightley into the sitting-room and settled him in his usual chair, "Sit, I call for you some tea." then went to ring the bell.

"Only you at home?"

"Miss Taylor went to visit her aunt and offer her condolences on her uncle-in-law's passing away and will be back in two days. Father's dining out tonight with Mr. Weston whose rare invitation he considered irresistible… Are you disappointed?" Emma turned round and looked at him hesitantly.

"Of course not my dear Emma, I'm very much glad and grateful to be warmly received by the new mistress of Hartfield."Mr. Knightley sat up straight and answered most earnestly.

Emma grinned lovely and went to the doorway to talk to the house maid about the refreshments and dinner. Gaze following her growing yet elegant figure, Mr. Knightly sighed with sadness as well as pride.

Emma soon returned and sat on a small stool beside Mr. Knightley and took his hand again. "Mr. Knightley, are you unwell?"

"Don't worry Emma, I'm just a little tired."

Emma frowned and pouted, "You never lied to me."

Mr. Knightley raised a brow, "How do you know I was lying?"

"When have you ever made yourself this unpresentable?" Emma eyed down and retorted softly.

Mr. Knightley colored deeply after a swift glance at his garments – jacket dusted, breeches and boots spattered with mud, as to his face and hair he dared not even to think of. How lucky he was that Mr. Woodhouse and Miss Taylor were not in today. "I'm so sorry Emma, I do not mean …"

Emma giggled, "I don't really mind, Mr. Knightley, but would you like to tell me what have happened If which will make you feel a little better?" Pleaded Emma.

Mr. Knightley wasn't sure why he talked to a young lady about business, but…"Of course Emma, only if you do not get bored of it."

Emma shook her head eagerly.

"It was… I got some trouble with part of my business partners and these troubles needed to be dealt with urgently. So I spent the last fortnight to visit them, negotiate with them, and ah, make amends to them… it's a hard labor, both physical and mental." Mr. Knightley smiled when he spoke, trying to make it brief and much less severe.

Emma frowned, "Was it an accident? I cannot imagine that this could be a consequence of ill-judgments as you're never wrong."

Mr. Knightley's eyes widened abruptly with a great surprise. He always knew Emma to be quick and sharp, but definitely never expected such a straight and pointed question from a thirteen-year-old young lady. "You flattered me my dear Emma, it was a consequence of my ill judgment, sort of, at least."

Emma didn't make comments, but leaned in a little, incredulously.

"Hum… it's one of my friends, an old friend, a so called friend who has abused my trust in him and taken the liberty of acting dishonorably under may name, and then vanished."

"Oh Mr. Knightley," Emma tightened her grasp of Mr. Knightley's hand, "you must be heartbroken by being deceived by an old friend, a so called old friend, like this. How could anyone be able to treat you so? He's a disgrace to the name of friend." Emma's eyes filled with compassion and indignation.

Mr. Knightley smiled genuinely at Emma's reaction, putting another hand around hers, "But I know I still have true friends."

"Yes Mr. Knightley, you deserve all the happiness and faithfulness. I will never hurt you or break your heart for the world, so as my Father and Miss Taylor. You will not lose your faith in true friends, will you?" Asked Emma anxiously.

"Of course I will not, my dear Emma. I'm right here at Hartfield, not Abbey, remember?" Mr. Knightley pressed her soft hands and reassured.

Emma contemplated a little and beamed approvingly.

"My apologies!" Mr. Knightley colored again after letting out an irresistible yawn, doubting whether he was able to remain any authority before young Emma given all these improper and ungentlemanly demeanors he had presented today.

Emma giggled happily, "I believe you need to take a nap, Mr. Knightley. I can tell you a bedtime story to help you sleep if you like."

Mr. Knightley was amused by the idea but resolved to accept Emma's kind offer. As he was about inquiring what he would have, Emma rose to her feet and reached the nearest table. "How could I be so childish," She chuckled shyly, coming back with a script in hand, "I'm reading you a book of course, Shakespeare?"

"Thank you Emma, I'm longing for it."

Turning the pages, Emma sat back on the small stool. Mr. Knightley stretched himself comfortably in the chair, eyes on Emma intently, fighting hard against his sleepiness. He was exhausted, yet unwilling to lose consciousness of this caring young beauty who was sitting aside, and patiently, tenderly reading for him.

Tiredness overwhelmed him, his vision blurred and darkened finally. And the last thing he knew was there's a shawl spread over his lap, so warm and comforting.

He saw the future in his dream, vague but brilliant!

 **FIN**


End file.
